


Hot Like a Smoking Gun

by jelbertie, peerieweirdo



Series: Silas Youth Correctional Facility [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelbertie/pseuds/jelbertie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/peerieweirdo/pseuds/peerieweirdo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silas Juvenile Correctional Institute, in picturesque Styria, where nothing, not even a turf war between the two largest factions in the prison, disturbs the pursuit of justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Run and Go

_****Someone was banging on the door._

_“Police! Open up!”_

_He stood there, dumbfounded, clutching a bag in his fist. A bag that was about to get him in a whole lot of trouble._

_Sirens were wailing. The banging was getting louder. He couldn’t move. His legs wouldn’t work._

_The door burst open. He was wrestled to the ground. And then-_

Kirsch shot up in his seat suddenly. He was still dreaming about it. He didn’t think it would ever completely go away.

To distract himself from that memory, he looked out of the van window. The last time he’d checked, they’d still been in the city, but now they appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Fields stretched out in all directions, baking in the sun, and it kinda looked like a planet out of a bad sci-fi movie.

 _Hey, I may get a decent tan out here_ Kirsch thought, smiling slightly. He’d been cooped up inside the house during the past year, desperately working to get a college scholarship. Plus, up north the weather was so bad, most of his sports practices were inside anyway.

And everything that had happened in the past month hadn’t helped either. He was pale and thin. He knew it.

“We’re here,” the driver said. Kirsch squinted slightly. He couldn’t see anything from where he was, unless ‘here’ was miles of nothingness.

The back of the van was opened, and a woman in uniform briskly gestured for him to stand up and get out. Kirsch stepped onto the concrete, and realised that his window had conveniently obscured the entire building from view.

He stared at the huge grey complex for a moment, before the woman spat out, “this way,” and began walking off towards a small building, separate from the rest.

_Man, what’s her problem?_

Kirsch looked around himself as he followed her. He could catch the edge of an outside area, and he even saw a flash of someone wearing green, but it was mostly just boxy, industrial buildings.

Maybe a tan was out of the question, at this rate he’d spend the whole day in the shade _avoiding_ sunlight. He could already feel the back of his neck beginning to burn.

Thankfully, he reached the door quickly and stepped into the blissful shade. The room he found himself in was clinical, with whitewashed walls and minimal furniture. A potted plant wilted slightly in the corner, and the harsh fluorescent lighting was a jarring change from the scorching sun outside.

The woman stood at the door, hands behind her back and head held high. A slightly frazzled-looking man sat at a desk, and looked up when he heard them enter. He even smiled slightly, which Kirsch appreciated.

“Welcome to the Silas Youth Correctional Facility. Take a seat,” he said. Kirsch did as he was told, plonking himself down on one of the plastic chairs facing the desk.

“Name?”

“W-Wilson Kirsch,” his voice was raw from a mix of crying, thirst and lack of use. He wished someone had offered him water.

“Age?”

“Seventeen…”

As they filled out the paperwork, Kirsch became more and more aware of the seat digging into his back. He wiggled around trying to find a decent position, but it seemed impossible. Maybe that was part of their punishment. Uncomfortable chairs.

Kirsch wouldn’t put it past them.

Letting his eyes wander, Kirsch read a poster over the man’s shoulder.

**All new inmates, please be aware that biting staff will cause 28 days to be added to your sentence.**

_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

Kirsch wasn’t the smartest guy, sure, but his future had never been… this. He wasn’t meant to be in a place that had to actually remind people to not bite.

“Okay, thank you, Wilson. Now please come with me,” the man gestured for Kirsch to stand up, and led him into a dingy side room. Kirsch decided he liked him more than the woman. At least he smiled and treated Kirsch like a person.

“Now if you’d please pop your shirt off.”

Kirsch wasn’t sure why he all of a sudden felt self conscious. He used to walk around with his shirt off all the time.

But he’d been wasting away ever since That Night, plus the fact that this wasn’t exactly as chill a situation as summer evenings with his friends had been.

Hands shaking, he undid the buttons of his shirt and slipped it off. The man quickly glanced at him, before ordering him to turn around.

“And your jeans.”

Kirsch fumbled with his belt, before sliding his jeans down to his ankles. He was once again instructed to turn around.

“Please tell me you’re gonna let me keep my underwear on.”

The man laughed. “Don’t worry. Although we will have to scan you, to make sure you’re not concealing anything.”

“How would I manage to hide anything in my boxers?”

“Like I’d give you any ideas!” he joked. Kirsch found himself relaxing. This guy was cool. Even if he did kinda look like a mad scientist who’d worn the same ragged outfit for ten years.

He walked over to look at a laptop, which had a webcam pointed at Kirsch.

Kirsch knew it was irrational, but he still had a terrifying image of a picture of him in his underwear being sent to everyone at his school.

Not that it’d even affect him anymore.

“Alright, you’re good to go!” the mad-scientist clapped his hands together, before picking up a pile of grey clothes and handing them to Kirsch.

He quickly pulled them on. The pants were slightly too large, and the sweatshirt pinched him across the chest.

“Now, let’s go get you settled in, eh?”

* * *

Kirsch couldn’t feel less ‘settled’ if he tried.

He was led around the outside of the complex, and he quickly sweated through his new clothes. The grassy area he’d seen before turned out to just be a tiny patch of ground with a single tree, but a few inmates were milling around. Some sat, reading, whilst others chatted with their friends.

“Hey, how come they all get to wear normal clothes?”

“The sweats are just for new inmates. When all your stuff arrives from home, you can wear what you want.”

_Oh great. So I’m going to be singled out as fresh meat because of what I’m wearing. That should go down well._

Kirsch looked around self-consciously, but no one seemed to pay him any mind.

He was led inside the main building next. The voices of thousands of kids echoed around the tinny corridors.

“The social area is down the hall,” the mad-scientist pointed. Kirsch decided to call him Doctor Evil. “But let’s show you to your cell, okay?”

Kirsch nodded. He wasn’t in the mood to meet other people yet.

He trailed after Doctor Evil, up some stairs and along depressing, peach corridors.

They passed cells, and Kirsch couldn’t help but look in to some of them. A few had kids in them, lounging around on beds.

Some had posters up, and bookshelves full of books from home. He even thought he saw one or two televisions.

“All of the inmates are allowed a certain degree of personalisation to their cells,” Doctor Evil noticed him looking. “You’ll get to as well, when your mother sends in your things.”

They walked past a cell that seemed completely bare.

“Is that mine?”

“Oh, no, someone is using that one.”

“Why’s it so empty?”

“Some people don’t have all that much stuff to bring from home,” Doctor Evil shrugged, before continuing down the corridor.

He stopped in front of a cell.

“This is you!”

He smiled and gestured as if it was some kind of mansion. Like ' _hey MTV, welcome to my crib. It's a fucking cell.'_

In reality, Kirsch found himself in a cinderblock room with one small window too high up for him to see out of. An iron bed sat in the corner, with a collection of items laid out on it. He walked over to get a closer look.

There was soap, shampoo, a toothbrush and toothpaste. There was also candy.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, picking up a chocolate bar and inspecting it. It had already melted.

“Just a little welcome pack.”

Kirsch looked around the rest of the room. He had a wooden desk, with a chair that was nailed down to the floor. And in the other corner… a tin toilet and a sink. Gross.

There was a mirror above the sink, and Kirsch caught a look at his gaunt face. The bags under his eyes had become even more pronounced, and his hair was getting longer than he liked.

“Now, you seem like a fairly mentally stable kid,” Doctor Evil said.

“Uh, thank you?”

“Usually here is where we’d have you in to see the counsellor about suicidal thoughts and the like, but since you have no history of violence towards yourself or others, the prison hasn’t deemed it necessary. I am to tell you, though, that if you do have any concerns, the counsellor’s office is open twenty-four-seven.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kirsch tried not to think about the fact that suicidal thoughts appeared to be a common occurrence here.

“It’s lights out in a few hours. I’ll just leave you here,” Dr Evil nodded, before closing the door and walking away down the corridor.

Kirsch stared at the door for a moment, before walking over to it and gingerly trying the door handle.

_Good, I’m not locked in._

He wasn’t sure why this comforted him so much. He wasn’t planning on leaving the room anyway, but it was still nice to know that he could if he wanted to.

He picked up all the stuff from his bed and dumped it on his desk, before lying down on the newly cleared space and staring up at the ceiling.

As Doctor Evil had been so kind to point out, none of his stuff had arrived yet. Meaning he was stuck with wearing ill-fitting grey clothes, and he didn’t have anything to pass the time.

Even though it wasn’t even lights out yet, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

_“You gotta help me, man, they’re after me!”_

_“Police, open up!”_

* * *

Kirsch’s eyes slowly drifted open. He could see a faint stream of sunlight filtering through his tiny window, so he figured it must be morning.

There was a faint banging on the door, which was probably what woke him up. He slowly got out of bed, rolling his neck slightly. He must have slept with it awkwardly, because he felt an ache all down his back.

He didn’t even reach the door before he heard the jangling of keys and it swung open. An officer he hadn’t seen before was standing there, looking bored.

“It’s breakfast. This is the only day I’ll be reminding you,set  so an alarm.”

And with that, she turned around and walked away.

Kirsch stepped out of his cell, and saw that other inmates were also emerging in various states of dress. Some were already completely ready, whilst others stayed in their pyjamas.

They were all heading off down the same direction, so Kirsch decided to follow them. They all nodded to their friends, or began conversations, and he found himself feeling awkward.

In the cafeteria, things were pretty much the same. There were three long tables set out, and the two of them on either side were full. One had boys who were pushing and joking with each other, and the other had girls laughing and talking.

The one in the middle wasn’t empty, however. Two people sat on either end, not talking to each other or anyone else.

Kirsch thought maybe that was some kind of punishment or whatever. Not being allowed to sit with your friends for meals.

He’d seen Orange Is The New Black, and also Mean Girls (as much as he hated to admit it) and he was well aware of the cliche where the new person walks into the cafeteria and everyone stares at them and they can’t find a place to sit.

He was somewhat relieved to discover that nobody here seemed to give a shit about him, continuing on with their daily life. He joined the line for food quietly, taking a tray. If he tried, he could even convince himself he was back in school.

A slightly violent-looking lady handed him an apple and some toast.

“Thank you!” he said, which seemed to surprise her for a moment. She smiled slightly and nodded. He walked off, finding a spare seat right on the edge of the boy table.

“Hey, dude, how did you do that?”

It took a while for Kirsch to realise that he was being spoken too. A pale, blond-haired guy who looked about thirteen was leaning over, looking at him intently.

“How did I do what?”

“You got Mrs Klaus to smile. We’ve been trying to do that for ages! What did you do?”

“I just… said thank you.”

The boy looked like he’d just made some huge discovery. “Aaaaah!” He leaned over to the boy next to him, an Asian kid whose hair was sculpted into a neat coif.

“He said thank you! We never tried that!”

He just shrugged, so the other boy turned back to Kirsch.

“I’m Price. And that’s Theo.”

“Kirsch,” he replied, taking a bite of his toast.

“So, why’re you here?”

Kirsch chewed for a moment, thinking. He definitely couldn’t tell anyone the real story.

“Stole some shit,” he said.

“Aw come on that’s boring! I was hoping we could get a murderer in here at some point.”

“They put the murderers into max security.”

This was the first thing Theo had said, and Kirsch was surprised to find his voice pretty deep. He spoke with surety, and Kirsch knew the kid would be listened to by almost anyone.

“That’s true,” Price frowned. “But at least we could have an _attempted_ murderer!”

They sat for a while, all eating. Kirsch glanced over to the other two tables. At the far side, a group of girls were chatting seriously. It looked like they were planning something. His eyes accidentally met with a redhead and he quickly averted his gaze.

At the other table, the two people were still sitting in silence. One of them was surrounded by paper and they seemed to be marking something on with a pencil. There was also a tiny cactus on the desk for some reason.

The other didn’t have any food in front of her, but she was nose-deep in a book. Kirsch tried to read the title, but he couldn’t make it out.

“Hey, what’s her deal?” he leaned over to Price, who looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking about.

“Oh, that’s Carmilla. You don’t want to know all that much more about her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you see that sign when you came in about not biting the guards?”

Kirsch nodded.

“She’s the reason that’s there.”

She was wearing ripped black jeans and a band t-shirt, but nothing about the slight figure of the girl gave Kirsch the impression that she was really all that dangerous. Just as he was looking, her eyes flicked up to catch him, Price and Theo all staring at her.

She bared her teeth and put up her middle finger at them.

“Karnstein! Here! Now!” a guard called.

She sighed, standing up and walking towards the guard with as much attitude as she could put into her step. As she passed their table, Kirsch heard her mutter, “thanks a lot, numbnuts.”

“Ah, great, now we have the prison psycho on our case,” Price said, taking another bite of his toast.

Kirsch felt conflicted, because he’d already made some friends, but he’d also made an enemy. And of course it was the girl everyone’s afraid of. Still, it was hardly his fault that she was getting in trouble for swearing at them.

“Nah man, the prison psychos are the summer soc girls!” a random guy joined in on the conversation.

Price began laughing, “you’re right about that, my friend.”

“The summer sock?” Kirsch asked. Did they have specific socks for each season or something?

“The Summer Society is this all-girl’s club. Pretty much every girl in here apart from Carmilla’s in it. They do girly shit like braiding hair or whatever, I don’t even know,” Price explained. “But we made our own club to go against them. So, my dear Kirsch, you are talking to the founders of Zeta Omega Mu,” he puffed out his chest.

“Okay?”

“We’re a bro-hood that supports our friends. You’re welcome to join.”

Kirsch stared around at the girls. The redhead from before was now staring at him with murder in her eyes.

“Deal.”

* * *

Danny had had one hell of a morning, from cleaning up some of her Summer Socs because they were caught in yet another zeta prank to changing the lightbulbs in the rec room since she didn’t need a ladder. Needless to say, she was exhausted. When she had first arrived in this godforsaken place, (it seemed like forever ago at this point), she had assumed things would get very boring, very quickly. She had been wrong.

Every single day the zetas did something to piss her off, one of her girls needed help or advice, and the guards failed in their job of checking what had come into this place. Usually the things she saw were harmless, but every so often she had to remove a knife from someone’s room which just caused unneeded stress.

Danny really should be on Silas’s payroll, she did more work than the people working here.

It wasn’t surprising, therefore, that Danny was nearly always absolutely exhausted, and today had not been the one of the best she’d spent in this place. Still, it was nice to get some food.

“Hey girls.” She smiled at the Summer Socs on their table, and they all returned the favour.

“Hey Danny.” Natalie made some room for the unofficial leader of the group to slip in.

“So, any newbies today?”

“Just the one, and he’s already joined up with them.” Danny didn’t need to ask for confirmation of who ‘they’ were. She just scanned the zetas looking for their new addition, and it didn’t take her long to find him. He didn’t look like a threat, the typical ‘brawn but no brains’ guy that the zetas seemed to _love_. “But you didn’t give the tour to the new girls yesterday so…”

“I’ll do it after lunch.” The new guy met her eyes, Danny glared, he looked away. Okay so maybe he looked away before she had actually glared, but the sentiment was still there.

“What if we steal their shower kits?”

Oh, looked like another plan of action was in motion, which meant that sooner or later…

“Danny?”

“Yes, Taylor?”

“Thoughts?” Here we go, another battle against the zetas in a war that they were so close to winning.

“Take the towels, their clothes and the soap, we can’t let them go into the showers barefoot. We don’t want any deaths on our hands.”

“But you know that Mel once…”

“I _know_ that no one wants added time.” The girls all exchanged glances, they knew she was right. Danny broke the tension with a laugh. “But go ahead, and don’t get caught.”

The girls all cheered as they finished eating, so at least that was something. The noise attracted a little attention from the zetas, who, unsurprisingly, started heckling. Soon enough, they were all yelling at each other and the guards were trying to intervene.

Yep, just a normal, exhausting day.

* * *

“Girls, keep up.”

The newbies had lingered, yet again, near one of the many unattended corridors, no doubt trying to gauge whether or not they’d get caught if they wandered off there. They wouldn’t, but Danny didn’t tell them that, she knew what would happen if people knew about unguarded spots in this prison. She knew all too well.

“What’s the point of this anyway?” The oldest of the group sulked with an attitude reminiscent of the people Danny went to high school with.

“You want to get lost?” They all shook their heads. “Then listen, cause you only get this once.” Danny was used to this, the newbies thinking they knew better than her, even though they’d been here one day and Danny had been here for…

Okay, she didn’t want to think about that.

“When we get an hour out, you go through those doors down there.”

“Is there a track?” That was a timid girl at the back, couldn’t have been older than 14, and that was pushing it.

“Not yet.” It was a promise. Silas needed that track, they just didn’t see it yet.

The tour continued around the building, with rules, both official and not, being fired at the girls like they were going to remember them. Hopefully their cellmates would help them out, but Danny couldn’t be sure of anything. But she also didn’t have the time to babysit any one particular girl, not when she was basically in charge of all the girls in this facility. So she had to tell them now and hope that they’d remember.

“Don’t accept anything from the alchemy guys.”

“The ‘alchemy guys?’”

“That’s just what they call themselves. They say they can smuggle in anything you want, but their prices are high and what they’re selling?” Danny shuddered. “It’s not safe. You need anything, I can point you toward a much better, credible source.”

These tours always brought up old memories that the taller girl really didn’t like reflecting on.

“Never insult the cook, she’ll remember and bake you into cookies.” Danny grinned down at the group. Some of them understood she was joking and laughed, some looked scared.

“R-Really?”

“Nah, but she can get pretty bitchy toward you if you insult her, and she’s in charge of food.” As the group reached the cells again, Danny turned to face the girls she’d guided round, and so she didn’t see the group of zetas behind her.

“Yeah, and sometimes she’ll even give you the fungus from the roof, huh Lawrence?”

“Better than a regurgitating toilet getting revenge, right Price?” She didn’t even need to look round. She knew everyone in this place.

“Dude that’s messed up.”

“That’s what the summer psychos’ll do to you. Crazy, the lot of them.”

With that, Danny actually faced the group of zetas. There was the new guy, he seemed to be pretty relaxed despite the whole ‘first day at Silas’ thing. God, he was going to cause her trouble, Danny could feel it.

“At least the Summer Socs weren’t created because we felt left out.”

“We…we didn’t…I mean…the zetas are…”

“Not very good with words, gotcha.” Danny winked sarcastically. “Now scram.” And they sulked off, away from the girls. Perfect. The taller girl turned back to her tour group. “This brings me to my next point, the girls in this place tend to stick together. We’re known as the Summer Society, and we’ll look out for you. We even have a few activities set up for down time, and we’re always looking for new members.”

Danny was happy to see that she’d caught the attention of the girls.

“Just sit on our table at mealtimes, we have more than enough space.” Good, they looked interested. “And finally, I’ll let you go. Don’t get in any more trouble than you have to here, ladies.”

Most of them left before Danny had even finished speaking, going off to do…whatever it was that they could find to do. There really wasn’t much here, the facility’s budget hardly stretched to clean bathrooms. But one girl stayed behind, it was the girl who’d asked about the track.

“Hey there.” Danny sat down next to her, and she met her eyes. The girl looked pretty spooked, and Danny really couldn’t blame her. “What’s up?”

There was a pause. It seemed like a redundant question, the girl could refer to whole building and she would be understood. But still, Danny found that it usually helped to ask.

“I didn’t realise…” She trailed off, going quiet again.

“Didn’t realise what, squirt?”

“That there was so much to know. I thought I’d be safer here but…” She was crying. Danny tried to calm her down, but there wasn’t much that could be done. Being here as long as she had, Lawrence had heard nearly every story that she could imagine, and then some, and so a response like that? Danny got the picture.

“Hey, hey, you will be.” The girl sniffed. “You will. The Summer Society keep each other safe, and no one will expect you to know everything. You’ve still got these on,” Danny gestured to her sweats. “So we know you’re new. I trust all of the Summer Socs, and you will too.”

The girl slumped.

“You can make it through this. It really isn’t that bad. Trust me, I’ve been here for a long time.”

“How long?” It was an innocent question, but Danny still didn’t want to answer it. But one look at this girl told her that she needed anything Danny could offer.

“Two years.” The shock on her face seemed to distract her from the sadness at least. Danny put her finger to her lips. “But don’t go sharing, huh?” The girl nodded. “Want me to keep an eye out for you?” Some girls did, some girls saw it as an embarrassment.

“Yes please.” This girl looked like she needed it.

“No problem kiddo.” Danny stood up and helped the girl to her feet. “What’s your name?”

“Jensen. What’s yours?”

“Lawrence. See you round, Jensen.” As Danny went to walk away she was surprised when this tiny girl actually held onto her sleeve.

“Thank you, L-Lawrence.”

Well, it looked like there was another Summer Society girl that Danny felt like she absolutely had to protect. How many was that now? She didn’t know, she’d lost count.


	2. This Is War (Fuck You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this week's recommended listening is this is war by 30 seconds to mars, and fuck you by lily allen (also jsyk this is probably our fave chapter we've written so far)

_Kirsch had nowhere to run, he couldn’t do anything but let himself be taken. The handcuffs dug into his wrists as he was dragged away-_

 

“Dude, get up!”

Kirsch sat up groggily as a pillow was flung at his face. He stared daggers at Sanchez, who gave him a shit-eating grin and pulled on a shirt.

“Not cool.”

“It’s breakfast in five, and I don’t want all the bacon gone by the time you’ve hauled your ass out of bed.”

“That,” Kirsch said, rolling out of bed and beginning to get changed, “only happened once.”

“Price bitches about it enough, you’d think it was a recurring event.”

“Price is a drama queen.” He walked over to the mirror and washed his face. “Hey, isn’t your stuff arriving today?”

Sanchez shrugged. “They said it would. I’ll finally get out of these clothes, thank God! Plus I’ll be able to put my own posters up instead of having to stare at yours all the time.”

“Hey, Xena is cool!”

“Sure, bro.”

Kirsch surveyed their cell. He’d managed to personalise it slightly over the past few months, although the package his mother had packed for him had contained most of the stuff he’d liked when he was twelve. Including his clothes. So he was stuck wearing jeans two sizes too small, and cartoon tshirts. Not that anyone really cared. Believe it or not, there wasn’t much emphasis on _fashion_ in prison.

Shocker, right?

When Sanchez had moved in he’d had to create some space for the new bed, and today it seemed he’d need to clear the walls too, which sucked since his posters were totally cool.

“Okay, man, let’s go to breakfast.”

He opened the door and started off down the corridor. He knew Sanchez would be following him. The kid had arrived a few days ago, and had already sussed the place out quicker than Kirsch had. He knew who he had to stick to for protection.

Halfway along the corridor he found himself being jumped on by Price.

“Hey, loser!”

“Price! What’s up, bro?”

“Well, let me tell you my life has had _many_ exciting developments since you last saw me last night. I did nothing but lie in my cell all night.” Price winked. “You?”

“Pretty much the same.”

“How’s fresh meat settling in?”

“To be honest?” Kirsch lowered his voice, “better than I did. He may overthrow me as top dog.”

“Nah, that ain’t gonna happen,” Price said. “No one’s idiot enough to try and take down a drug lord.”

Kirsch felt himself flush. “I’m not a drug lord, bro.”

“Of course not. You were just found with a fuckton of coke in your hands.”

“Is that an exact measurement?”

“Sanchez shut the hell up.”

“Can we stop talking about this?”

Kirsch’s petty theft story had held up for all of two days, before one of the inmates revealed that their cousin had gone to his high school and knew what he was really in for. One one hand, it had given him a lot of respect around the place, and no one crossed him.

On the other hand, every time someone brought it up, Kirsch felt a stab of shame in his chest. Not that he could explain that to anyone.

“Hey, what do you reckon the summer psychos have in store today? Another girly-ass prank like yesterday?”

“I’d hardly call swapping our toothpaste for haemorrhoid cream a ‘girly-ass prank’.”

“Jesus Christ, Theo! You can’t just sneak up on us like that!”

* * *

“Dude, you’re wrong.”

“I’m totally right.”

“I’m telling you you’re completely wrong.”

“No! Seriously! My Uncle told me. If you put two pencils in a cross and draw the grid on the paper, a demon will appear. It’s freaky, dude.”

“Adams, shut up.”

Kirsch leaned back in his chair, and looked around the social area. He was sitting with a few other zetas, and a couple of the tables were occupied by summer soc girls. The table closest to them had the person who shared the middle table with Carmilla, who Kirsch had learned went by the name of LaFontaine. Unlike Carmilla, who stayed out of the conflict by choice, LaF wasn’t allowed in either societies. Kirsch tried to convince Price to change the rules, but he protested that it was strictly boys only. And God knows the summer society wouldn’t take them, the assholes. Which was probably sucky. Kirsch kinda felt sorry for them.

“None of that superstition shit is real.”

“I dunno, dude. I thought I saw the shadow of a man running across my wall last night.”

“That was me, you idiot! I got up to pee.”

“Oh.”

Kirsch laughed.

“Alright, we got twenty minutes of rec time left before showers. Wanna play bullshit, ya dipshits?”

“Sure.”

Kirsch started dealing cards out to everyone at the table. They’d had to change the rules slightly, since yelling ‘bullshit’ in the middle of a prison was the perfect way to get time added to your sentence.

“What’s our replacement word this time?”

“Doohickey.”

“Good call.”

Kirsch picked up his cards. His hand was crap. Before he could play, however, Price burst into the social area and made a beeline for their table. He tapped Kirsch on the shoulder. It seemed urgent.  

“Bruh.”

“Bruh?”

“Bruh.”

“What, bruh?”

Price sat down, shoving a younger Zeta out of the way.

“We need a football field.”

“No shit.”

“No, I mean _now_.”

Kirsch pinched the bridge of his nose, before standing up on the seat.

“ALRIGHT, BROS. IMPROMPTU ZETA MEETING, NOW!”

Slowly all of the guys in the room surrounded the table. Kirsch caught a glance of the summer soc. leader, Lawrence, gathering up the girls on the other side of the room.

“Alright, bros. We’ve been trying to get a football field for months now. So, Price, why the urgency all of a sudden?”

“I was talking to JP.”

“Who?”

“You know the guy who looks like a librarian on crack?”

“Ooooh. I call him Doctor Evil”

“Anyway, I was talking to him about us getting our field, and he said the prison doesn’t have any money.”

“No shit. They don’t even give us soap anymore, they make us use our shampoo on the rest of our bodies.”

“Yeah, but dude,” Price leaned in conspiratorially, “they only have enough funding for _one big project_ this year. Which means we have to move fast, or else the summer soc will get their useless girly track and we’ll be left with nothing.”

“ _Bruh_.” Price and Kirsch shared a meaningful look.

This was not good news. Kirsch knew the Zetas really needed the space to play football. Tensions were getting high and fights had been breaking out left right and centre. A place to run around would really be a great way for them to blow off some steam.

“Okay, okay okay,” Kirsch went to run his hand through his hair, before remembering that he’d recently had it all shaved off again. He couldn’t stand long hair in the heat. So he kind of just awkwardly rubbed his head.

“So, it’s pretty obvious what we need to do, right?”

“Okay so I can make fire using a current from the kettle and a piece of plastic-”

“No, Price. That’s not what we need to do.”

Kirsch stared around at the blank faces of the Zetas.

“Anybody?”

Nothing.

“Okay, look. There are almost exactly the same amount of summer socs as there are Zetas, right? And obviously they all want the track and we all want the field. So…”

“So we need to get a majority vote somehow,” Theo piped up.   
“Exactly! So, we need to talk to the people who are undecided.”

* * *

Kirsch cradled his arm gingerly. Who knew that girl could punch so well?

Price had warned him on his first ever day, but he still hadn’t expected Carmilla to be _that_ bad.

He was proved wrong.

So. Carmilla obviously wasn’t going to join the Zetas. He hadn’t really expected her to. That left one more person.

“LaFontaine,” he said as he leaned in the doorway to their cell.

They looked up from their notes, which were once again sprawled everywhere.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Kirsch blinked.

“I’m not picking sides in your silly battle for the football field. That’s what you’re here for, right?”

“Well, yeah, but once you hear our argument I’m sure you’ll-”

“Look,” they put down their paper, stood up and walked over to face Kirsch. “Do I look like I give a shit what happens to the outside area? Do I look like I go outside?”

Kirsch scanned the cell. Above the bed was a giant poster of the periodic table, and the small cactus, Kevin, was sitting on the windowsill.

“Fair point.”

They nodded knowingly, before turning and picking up a notebook from the bed.

“I have my own shit to deal with, without getting involved in some boys versus girls pissing contest. If I pick a side, I’m alienating half of my customers.”

Oh fuck. Kirsch had forgotten about that.

“Hey, I really value your backing, here. With your business, you’re really one of the most influential players in this place. Whichever side you choose will almost definitely win. You’re a real power player here.”

“As much as I appreciate you flattering me, it’s still not gonna happen. Already been through the whole ‘boy or girl’ fiasco, and I’m pretty happy being in the middle, thank you very much.”

“Susan?”

Kirsch whirled around to see LaFontaine’s cellmate standing in the doorway, arms crossed. He recognised her, she was one of the summer soc girls. Still, she wasn’t one of the _super_  crazy ones.

LaF sighed and ran a hand down their face. “Perry, I’ve told _you_ , it’s-”

“And I’ve told you that you can’t operate your…” her eyes shifted and she lowered her voice to a stage whisper, “ _business_ in the cell anymore.”

“Don’t worry, Perry, Kirsch isn’t here for anything. He’s totally straight edge in here. He’s asking about the football field. And I’ve told _him_ that my answer is no.”

“Well, you know, if you wanted you could always join the summer society-”

“Perry, no! That’s a girl’s club, and I’m not a girl!”

“Well maybe when you get over this silly phase, you’ll realise that-”

“ _So_ ,” Kirsch clapped his hands together, attempting to cut through the almost tangible tension between the two redheads, “I’m gonna go. But think about it?”

He quickly left the cell, and he heard voices being raised as he power-walked down the corridor.

* * *

This meeting was not going well. There had already between 20 death threats to various zetas, one girl had had to leave because her hair got caught in someone else’s (who even managed to get gum in this place) and a seventeen year old ex-wrestler had been reduced to tears. All over a freaking track.

“Girls, girls, calm down. Look, I know the zeta losers over there want their stupid football field, but guess what? That’s not gonna happen.”

“It’s not?”

“No Jensen, it’s not.” Danny smiled down at the small girl, she still clung to the older girl’s sleeve every now and again, but she was starting to stand up for herself. Danny was actually pretty proud.

“Because we’re going to kill one of them to send a message?”

“Okay, Mel, you need to leave.”

“But it’d totally work.”

“No it wouldn’t.” And then another argument broke out over the necessity of death threats. Summer Society meetings always ended up like this, but it was actually a good thing. Because every so often someone would say something that was absolute gold. This is why Danny loved her girls.

“Look, we don’t need to hide blades in their bread, we just need to complain to the right people.”

“What do you mean, Taylor?” Everyone was looking at her now, waiting for the plan. Taylor knew this, and was taking the most dramatic pause ever. “Taylor, seriously, just say it.”

“My councillor is a bit worried about me, I’ve been exaggerating on the anxiety front…”

“ _Taylor_ , what have I said about that?” Danny rolled her eyes, these girls could be brutally manipulative when they wanted to be.

“Hey, shush, this is gonna help. He’s gonna want to do anything he can to help me. _Anything_. What if I start saying about how I really need a place to run. To stop me...going over the edge.”

“That’s fucking twisted.”

“Twisted enough that it just might work.” It was true, Danny couldn’t deny it. She wished the staff here would listen to normal requests, but they couldn’t give two shits about the inmates. Normal requests were ignored like terms and conditions. So they had to be sneaky.

“We’d need more than just the councillor though.” Natalie pointed out as she noted down the plan. Danny would have to check it over later but she could never express how thankful she was for the minutes she took of the meetings. “If we want to win this, we’ve got to have more influence.”

“Who has influence though?” Jensen piped up.

The girls all thought for a moment, it was difficult to pin down exactly who they’d need. There were only really two factions in Silas, and the other one was their enemy and arguing on the side of a useless football field that would only serve their interests. The only other people they could talk to were the staff, who didn’t care, and…

“The middle tablers.” Danny realised.

“Oh of course.” Natalie noted it down. “They’re gonna have to pick sides eventually, and the guards pay pretty close attention to them.”

“Plus Laf has that connection with JP.”

“What connection with JP?” Jensen asked, all doe-eyed and innocent. Oh god, Danny had to be careful here, she didn’t know how far that apparent innocence actually stretched.

“Oh, JP gets Laf...stuff that we’re not usually allowed…”

“Drugs kid, she means drugs.”

“Mel I swear to god.” Danny shifted back to her happy-mode as she turned to Jensen. “Also just random crap like sweets that we can’t get from commissary”

“Oooh, okay.” Jensen smiled up at Danny. “So that’s where Bright gets her heroin from.”

So maybe this kid knew more than she let on.

* * *

Well, this wasn’t going to be fun. Talking to Karnstein never was, Danny and Carmilla has some silly argument over a teddy bear when they’d first arrived, it was the only thing Danny had brought from home and it had been stolen away from her, and since then...things were...difficult. Still, it had to be done. For the good of her girls.

“Hey, Morticia!” Karnstein responded, that was a good sign. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m not going to get involved with the argument about the field.” She didn’t even look up from her book. Rude.

“What?”

“It’s a trivial matter, not one I’d like to waste my time over.” She took a sip of her ‘super special’ soy milk, the benefits of being a long-timer, you could make special requests with the cook. Danny was still sitting opposite her though, which she didn’t take long to notice. “Now shoo.”

Danny didn’t move.

“Go away.”

Danny stood her ground.

“I’ll bite you.”

“Look, just consider how much we need a…”

“I told you, I’ve heard the arguments for the field. It’s not worth my time, now go back to your group of girls and tell them that Carmilla Karnstein is not a pawn in this game.” Danny knew when she had lost, and she wasn’t going to lose her dignity thanks to some girl who’d been here longer than she had. “Oh, and tell the football jerk that he’s not going to use me either.”

“Kirsch was here?”

“Is that his name?”

“The head zeta?”

Carmilla sighed dramatically. Danny assumed that meant yes.

“Ugh, that imbecile.” And with that she marched away from Karnstein, and towards the zetas. They all started whistling and heckling and it was all Danny could do to stop herself from calling out a war cry. No point in letting this escalate. “Oi, you!” Kirsch looked up, surprised by her sudden arrival. “Yeah, you. What’s the deal? Getting the middle tablers involved?”

“ _You_ were literally _just_ trying to get the middle tablers involved.”

“That doesn’t matter, you did it first.”

“Well I have to even the playing field don’t I?”

“And turn it into a useless track, yeah I know what you want.”

“That track is gonna be awesome, just cause you want to have a testosterone filled field of sweaty, disgusting zetas.”

Price suddenly perked up, “You like your zetas sweaty huh?”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Hey, _you’re_ disgusting.”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the fact that a football field will end up stinking this place out.”

“It’ll be an outlet for aggressive tendencies.” Kirsch argued, standing his ground. Like Danny would let him.

“Oh just what we need, more aggression.”

This argument had received a _lot_ of attention from everyone surrounding them, the zetas all watching from their seats expectantly, the Summer Socs slowly gathering around Danny to show their support. Each group would cheer or jeer at the appropriate person and the atmosphere was reaching a scary level of charged.

"You know, _some of us_ want somewhere we can stretch our legs and test our endurance, not somewhere to throw around a useless hunk of leather and violently straddle each other and call it sport" The support for that statement was practically deafening, Danny was surprised the guards hadn’t stepped in yet.

“Heh, she said straddle.”

“Shut up, Sanchez.” Oh how awful, it looked like the head zeta was losing control.

"Yeah well maybe we wanna do some real sport, not that prissy girly girl stuff you guys do." Price spoke up, and the look Kirsch sent him was one of betrayal. Probably because he’d stolen his spotlight the self-obsessed jerkwad.

“What's wrong with being girly, dicknugget?" Danny folded her arms, backed up by her girls shouting their disapproval at Price.

“Uh...he didn’t...I mean my bro here...he just…”

It was that moment that Danny made a reckless decision. She knew it was about to happen because she heard Natalie mutter ‘oh no’ at the change in her demeanor. It was a decision that was going to shape the rest of her stay at Silas.

“Okay zetas, you listen and you listen well.” They all leaned forward. She loved the power she had over these people. “If you want a war over the fate of this field, you’re going to get a fucking war.”

 

 


	3. hit me with your best shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> also known as the infamous poop chapter  
> this chapter's recommended listening is the phoenix by fall out boy and hit me with your best shot by pat benatar

Kirsch had not expected war to be quite as satisfying.

But the sight of Lawrence walking in for breakfast wearing clothes clearly far too small for her, with murder on her face, was so worth it.

“Okay, who did that?” Kirsch asked, watching her sit down angrily at the far away table.

He scanned the faces of the Zetas. The newer ones seemed apprehensive, as if unsure what they should say. Most of the people who had been there longer shrugged, or continued laughing.

It _was_ a hilarious sight. Her jeans stopped mid-calf and her tiny t-shirt showed off her toned stomach. She stared straight at Kirsch, and he just shrugged, grinning.

She mouthed ‘fuck you.’

‘You wish’ came his silent reply.

She gave him the middle finger.

“Seriously, who was that?” he chuckled.

Slowly, Theo raised a hand.

“Dude, you’re a _genius_. High five!”

In his periphery, Kirsch could see the summer soc girls all clumping together, probably planning a counterstrike. He needed to make his next move.

“Alright, bros,” he leaned in, and everyone automatically followed, “we need to come up with something big. So. What assets do we have?”

“Brute strength!” Price said triumphantly.

“Okay, first off, we’re not taking them in a fist fight,” Kirsch said, “And second, have you seen some of them? There’s no way we’re stronger.”

Price slumped back down, crossing his arms.

“Any of the fresh meat have any ideas?” he turned to some of the newer Zetas. One of them, still wearing sweats, offered up, “I could probably get access to their letters from home? Forge something?”

“Okay, now that’s plain evil.”

“There’s always Mrs Klaus.”

Theo was so quiet, Kirsch almost didn’t hear him.

“What?”

“Mrs Klaus. She likes you. Has done ever since your first day here.”

“So?”

“So, we can probably get into the girls’ food somehow. Put whatever we want in there.”

Kirsch couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

_“Dude.”_

* * *

The next morning, Kirsch rolled out of bed and immediately kicked the bed next to him.

“Showers, dude.”

Sanchez groaned.

“Come on, you totally stink!”

“So do the showers.”

“... True.”

“Seriously, you’ve been here for months. Have they _ever_ cleaned them?”

Kirsch thought for a moment. He couldn’t say that he’d ever seen any cleaning going on. And the mould in the bathrooms was damn dangerous. Whenever a new Zeta arrived, his first course of action was to make them buy some flip flops. No one wants that inevitable infection.

Not to mention the major plumbing work that probably needed done.

“I’m not in the mood to stand under that freezing water for thirty seconds before it shuts off. I’m skipping showers and going to breakfast,” Sanchez grumbled.

“I’ll join you in that. I’ve got to get to Mrs Klaus early enough to get to the lasagna that she’s cooking for dinner. Which reminds me, do _not_ eat the lasagna tonight.”

“I know, dude! You’ve warned me like a thousand times!”

Kirsch just grinned, throwing a fake punch and heading out to the corridor. “I know, but you’re such an idiot I figured you’d forget!”

Sanchez followed him and they headed along the dim corridors, towards the cafeteria. Kirsch shot a wary look in the undecorated cell he’d seen on his first day. He’d been in the prison for a long time, now, but it still made him feel uneasy. Kind of half-sad half-confused. Not to mention he had no clue whose it was since no one was ever in it during rec time.

When they got to the cafeteria, it was pretty empty. Most people were still showering.

They grabbed their food and a couple of seats, and eventually the place started filling up with girls. Lawrence strolled in, raising an eyebrow cockily at Kirsch. He was confused for all of two seconds, before the doors burst open and the Zetas came in shouting and smelling strongly of fish.

The riot was stopped in its tracks by a guard yelling for them to shut up, and Price balled his fists before sitting down opposite Kirsch. There was something in his hair.

“Those fucking bitches dumped fish on us in the showers!” he said. Kirsch let the ‘bitches’ comment slide since Price was furious, but he made a mental note to discuss it at the next Zeta meeting. It was totally not cool.

“Bro, don’t worry. Operation lasagn-yolo is beginning soon.”

“Kirsch,” Theo said, sitting down next to Price, “I love you. But you have to get better at naming stuff.”

“Impossible!” Kirsch replied, beginning to eat his cereal. He ate as quickly as he could, and finished before most people had even started. “Wish me luck.”

He grinned and stood up. As soon as he reached the front of the cafeteria and dumped his bowl, he saw Price stand up on the chair from the corner of his eye.

“OH MY GOD RAT!” Price bellowed, and the ensuing carnage was pretty much what you’d expect. Even the Zetas got into it, jumping up on tables and screeching. The guards jumped into action, trying to calm things down.

Kirsch saw Price wink at him, before he quietly slipped into the kitchen.

It appeared to be empty, and he could still hear the shouts and screams from outside. The shiny chrome surfaces were a stark contrast from the cinderblock of the rest of the prison.

“What are you doing here?” the voice made Kirsch jump and he whirled around to find himself face-to-face with Mrs Klaus.

(Which was in itself impressive considering that Kirsch towered over girls.)

(Most girls.)

(Lawrence was an exception that he wasn’t happy about.)

“Uh, hey! I just thought I’d drop in,” he gave his best smile, “you know, it must get lonely in here.”

“Yes, it does,” she frowned. “You’re welcome to stay. How would you like come gingerbread?”

Kirsch began to panic. If he had to spend the whole day hanging with Mrs Klaus, there’s no way he’d be able to get to the food. He stuck his hand into his jeans pocket, getting a sweaty grip on the packet of pills Theo had gotten from LaFontaine (they weren’t aware of the Zeta’s plan, thank God, otherwise they’d have refused.)

“Uh, you’re okay, but thanks for offering!”

“Really?” she took a step forward, and Kirsch stumbled backwards, “you must be so worried, so far from home. I find that sweets are the best way to cheer people up.”

“Seriously, I’m good but thank you,” he protested, feeling the cooker pressing against his back as he retreated.

“I know how much you love gingerbread, Wilson.”

Okay, that was worrying. Nobody called him Wilson. _Nobody._

Realising he had no choice, he threw his hands up in surrender. “Yes, fine, I’ll have some gingerbread!” Then, after a beat, he added, “Please.”

She smiled wide, turning around and walking over to the refrigerator. As she stuck her head in, she kept talking about her husband and their pets but Kirsch wasn’t listening. He silently walked over to the pot of food that was cooking, and threw the pills in. He gave it a few stirs to make sure they were hidden, then he ran out of the kitchen as fast as he could.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

There was something wrong with her. Something seriously wrong with her. Danny could feel every little bit of food she had eaten at lunch sloshing around in her stomach, and the pressure was building. Danny groaned loudly as the churning increased in intensity, she couldn’t take this much longer.

Moving, even by the smallest amount, was almost too much. It felt like a water balloon was being filled inside her belly and at any moment it was going to…

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!

Danny ran as fast as she could to the toilets, ignoring her stomach (which was impressive since it was yelling for her attention), but she was too late. The queue was long. Unbelievably long.

Or at least it would be unbelievable if this war with the zetas wasn’t in full swing.

The pain was building up again as Danny desperately tried to keep her asshole clenched. It wasn’t going to hold much longer. Frantically searching for some form of relief, or somewhere she could feel relieved without maximum embarrassment, her options were not looking great. She wasn’t going to get to the front of the line without shitting her pants, and the rest of the prison didn’t have a good shitting area.

Except…

Danny didn’t let any thought of the conflict this could cause enter her mind, her butt was taking priority right now, and so she sprinted into the boys bathroom on the other side of the room.

The stalls were empty, not many of her girls had had this idea yet but Danny was sure they’d follow her, and so she rushed in and…

And she couldn’t physically bring herself to talk about what happened next.

Let’s just say that if the noises that came from her toilet stall were close to a government headquarters, she’d be carted away for national security reasons. Luckily, this prison couldn’t do that without being highly hypocritical since it was so filthy.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and Danny just assumed it was her fellow Summer Socs seeking refuge because, damn, no one would willingly wait in that line for the girl’s bathroom. So, when she was done, although Danny was well aware that this ‘done’ was only temporary, she just left her stall with her head held high. The Summer Socs would appreciate someone keeping their confidence until this mess was figured out.

Unfortunately, the people on the other side of her stall were zetas. Price and Sanchez to be exact.

The moment her eyes met theirs, the biggest grins spread across their faces. Those fucking sea cucumbers. Danny didn’t know exactly what they had done, but the faces told her enough to know that she was going to punch them in the face. Price’s whole demeanour shifted into something that screamed ‘I’m an asshole’ as he leaned smugly against the sink.

The sink made a scary noise and he jumped back before it broke, swearing like the scared little boy he was.

Okay, so at least Danny had that.

“Looks like your lasan-yah has become a lasan-no.” Sanchez grinned, trying to look cool. Unfortunately…

“Bro?” Price wasn’t very happy with the comment. “We come up with the most diabolically amazing scheme _ever_ and you say _that?”_

“I don’t know Price,” Danny smirked, trying to keep her cool. “It fits with the tone of this whole thing.”

He looked confused.

Danny punched the confused look off his face.

“It was really, _really_ shit.”

* * *

After the very satisfying punching incident in the bathroom, it hadn’t taken long for Danny to figure out that it had been the lasagne. The fucking lasagne. Mrs Klaus only made that heavenly dish once in a blue moon and the zetas had _ruined_ it. It shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, Danny knew how uncivilised they were, but still. To go for the food? That was a low blow.

One that she knew she couldn’t let slide.

Just as soon as she could stand up without feeling like crap again. What the hell had those pisscouches put in there?

Suddenly, the leading Summer Soc was distracted by the cheery singing of one of her girls as she passed by her cell. That was...odd.

“Hey! SJ?” Danny called after her, and Sarah-Jane’s smiling face popped into view.

“Yeah Lawrence?”

“Uhh...you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” Her smile got wider and her hair bobbed as she nodded. “Never better.”

“Seriously?”

“Uhhh, sure. Why?”

“Not feeling, oh I don’t know, like your ass is about to explode?” Okay, so Danny may have been in a rough mood. And she may be taking it out on a cheery friend. The words were a little harsh, but come on, no one could blame her. SJ did look mildly affronted though.

“No…” It took her a moment to piece everything together, and then her eyes widened in realisation. “Oh! Yeah, I didn’t have any lasagne, really wasn’t feeling it.” There was a pause. “Glad I didn’t now.

And then she skipped off.

Danny was too hung up on trying not to chew out one of her girls in her mind, save that animosity for the zetas Lawrence, to realise that SJ absolutely loved lasagne.

But it did make her realise that SJ was one of the few Summer Socs not affected by this godforsaken plan of the zetas. She hated to admit it, but Danny had to hand it to them, this was a good plan. Practically all of her girls had been incapacitated, and it _sucked._ They were just going to have to up their game for the next attack.

Another wave of panic arrived, and whilst she was running to the bathroom _again_ Danny realised that the next attack was going to have to wait.

* * *

It had been a week and the zetas thought they had won. It was _infuriating._ Because they absolutely, completely had _not_. It’s just that the Summer Socs hadn’t managed to come up with an appropriate retaliation plan yet. Sure, they had ideas but none of it was good enough. Not after the shit-cident.

“Seriously, I’ve got the blades right here and they’ve proved that food isn’t off the…”

“MEL! SERIOUSLY! You need to leave…” Danny was exhausted with this constant suggestion.

“But…”

“No!” Mel went to talk again. Danny silenced her with a glare. She sulked and stormed out of the room, but there was no time to feel any kind of remorse for that. There was business to attend to.

“What if we sewed their trouser legs shut?” One of the younger Summer Socs suggested.

“Think bigger.”

“I can order some viagra from the alchemy guys?”

“That could end in genetic mutations that we don’t want to deal with, Taylor.”

“Uhhhh…” They’d hit a wall. Nothing was good enough, nothing was big enough, nothing would have the same effect as…

“Guys.” Danny shot up as the idea hit her. “How many of you used to boys toilets during the crapsplosion?” Slowly, every girl in attendance sheepishly raised their hands. Danny beamed. “Perfect.”

“What are you thinking?” Natalie pulled out her notebook.

“Well, Patil has experience with plumbing…”

“I really don’t.” She piped up, but it wasn’t going to work. Too many people had witnessed the Great Pipe Blockage of ‘13.

“And I’m pretty sure I can trust Jensen to keep the janitorial staff distracted.” The little girl saluted from Danny’s side. “We could have a regurgitating toilet situation on our hands here.”

The murmuring started as the Summer Socs analysed Danny’s suggestion, trying to figure out if it could work. None of them could find any loose threads to pull, which was impressive in itself, and the smiles were starting to appear.

“Let’s give them a taste of their own medicine.”

“Ha, eat shit zeta omega mu!”

“Do you think we tell too many shit jokes now?”

“Nah!”

The atmosphere had shifted into something positive, finally, and Danny couldn’t be happier to see her Socs feeling motivated for this war again. They hadn’t lost yet.

“Do you think someone should go tell Mel?” Taylor asked, and yet making absolutely no effort to get up and do it herself.

After a pause, Danny sighed and volunteered, delegating the role of sorting out the actual plan to Natalie and Patil. She’d catch up at lunch when the plan was sorted.In the mean time, she had to find Mel.

“You cock juggling foot licker, I swear I’m going to…”

Okay, so it wasn’t that hard to find Mel.

“Finish that sentence.” That sounded threatening. “I dare you.” That was not a good thing to say to Mel, if only that zeta had paid attention to their goddamn enemy. Now Danny was going to have to get involved.

“Oh really? Or you’ll do what exactly, cause I don’t see any of these on you?” The telltale _shwing_ could be heard echoing down the corridor, and Danny was running. Sprinting. Couldn’t go fast enough. Yes, she hated the zetas but Mel was really fucking dangerous when threatened. Danny didn’t want another scene like…

Keep running Lawrence. Don’t stop. It’s only a few feet away.

There was a faint ‘heh’ that could be heard, and the sounds of a fight. And not the kind of fight that Danny was expecting. For one, it sounded like Mel was panicking, and not the zeta.

Finally, _finally,_ Danny reached the corner. And there was blood. No no no no, there shouldn’t be. Not yet. And…

It was Mel’s blood. She had a huge cut on her arm and a look of shock on her face, she wasn’t used to this outcome, and there was a frightening smirk on the zeta’s, Theo’s, face. He wasn’t done yet, the blade in his hand glinting just like his eyes. And that was…

_Mel’s blade._

This is why Danny had a strict no-blades policy. Because then crap like this happened. And she couldn’t stand to see one of her girls in pain. Immediately, Danny used her full height to assert dominance and yelled something across the corridor. She didn’t even know what she was saying, just that she had to say something. Stop this from happened.

The boy glared up at her, but Lawrence knew he was intimidated. She’d interacted with too many zetas in her time, and they had a shared body language that she had learned how to read. Eventually, he dropped the blade and ran off, and Danny knelt down next to Mel.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Duh.” The fear was gone from her face, thank god, but she must have still been rattled. “Gonna skip dinner though, need to work on some skills.”

“No knife work!”

“No.” Mel’s voice lost its edge for a moment. “No knife work.” With that she ran off, Danny wouldn’t chase after her. Besides, she had someone else she needed to have a little word with.

* * *

“WILSON MOTHERFUCKING KIRSCH!” The doors to the cafeteria swung open as Lawrence entered, fire in her footsteps. “YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!”

The head zeta was on his feet, he had been the moment Lawrence had used his first name. The general noise of the canteen was immediately silenced, the tension in the air so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. But Lawrence managed.

“What the hell, Summer Psycho?” He couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Don’t you _dare!_ I wasn’t the one who turned this silly prank war into something DANGEROUS!”

“Dangerous?”

“One of your slimy ass bros decided to bring a knife into the fight. A FUCKING knife!”

“What are you…” His bewilderness didn’t even register in Lawrence’s mind, she just grabbed a pile of bread rolls and lobbed them all, as hard as she could, at his head. “Ow, fuck, jesus christ Lawrence!” To defend himself he picked up a plate of spaghetti and managed to cover Danny in the sauce.

If she wasn’t seeing red before she was now, and it had nothing to do with the tomato sauce in her eye. Never before had Danny Lawrence _growled_ but there was a first time for everything. She grabbed a pitcher of milk and splashed it right in Kirsch’s face, covering the zetas surrounding him as well.

Price didn’t look all that pleased that he had been soaked, and so decided to help out his bro in their mission of throwing as much food possible at the head Summer Soc. That was when her girls decided to get involved, Danny could sense them by her side, projectiles in hand and soon enough the battle of the food was now underway.

The noise was deafening, war cries and insults were being pelted at each other at top volume and the food was making absolutely revolting sounds as it squelched on people’s faces and under their shoes. After throwing a potato at one of the taller zetas, Danny caught Laf’s eye and they glared at her. They didn’t want to be a part of this, but they had been splattered with gravy and there was another, unidentifiable stain on their top. Danny made a mental note to apologize later.

Carmilla was, somehow, untouched.

Food projectiles were flying through the air at alarming speeds. Natalie had managed to craft a catapult-like device and was flinging vegetables into clusters of zetas, who were responding by grabbing handfuls of little fish and covering some summer socs. Their cries of “EAT FISH, EAT FISH, EAT FISH” could be heard even above the noise caused by this food fight.

Among the chaos, Danny managed to single out Kirsch and made sure that she was targeting him specifically. He was supposed to be responsible for his fucking group and since that armpit stain wasn’t even competent enough to achieve that, one of Danny’s Summer Socs had been hurt and it was: All (she threw another potato) His (she lobbed a slab of meat) Fault (with all her strength, she hit him with a baguette)!

“ENOUGH!”

Oh crap.

 


	4. Trade Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the one where they actually talk whaaaat  
> this week's recommended listening is semi automatic by twenty one pilots and trade mistakes by panic at the disco

The officer seemed pissed. Seriously pissed. His forehead was sporting an impressive vein that Kirsch decided to focus on instead of what he was saying.

“Who the _hell_ is responsible for beginning this?!” he spat. No one said anything. They all stood around, staring at their feet. Kirsch was still holding some fries which he awkwardly dropped.

He used to get in trouble at school a lot, but this was different. This was _juvie_. When you get in trouble, you don’t just get a detention. You get time on your sentence, which he really didn’t need.

“It was those fucking girls,” Price yelled. Kirsch willed him to stop, before he made things worse. “They’re all psychos!”

And that sent off the bomb. All of a sudden the room exploded in yells again, as both boys and girls reignited their arguments. Kirsch was constantly surprised by Price’s ability to make everything worse.

Kirsch had to actually stop Price from punching a summer soc, and he noticed Sanchez getting in the way of a Zeta and some girl. Everyone was screaming and pushing and Kirsch was reminded of the concerts he used to go to.

Before, you know, incarceration.

“SHOWERS!”

Everybody fell quiet as an unfamiliar voice joined the shouting. Kirsch turned. It was Carmilla.

He hadn’t recognised her voice because she’d _never_ raised it. Not even when she’d been telling him to fuck off or threatening to rip out his spleen. She’d always kept her voice calm and controlled. Which was why it was such a surprise to see her yelling.

And it was also surprising that she was yelling about _showers_.

Everyone fell silent and turned to stare at her. She didn’t look nervous under their scrutiny, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“We were arguing about the showers. Because they need fixed desperately and you don’t have much budget.”

The officer seemed taken aback, as did everyone else in the room who _clearly_ knew she was full of shit.

Yet no one dared argue with her. She was smart, and also scary. She probably had a plan so it was best to agree. Plus, disagreeing could probably lead to bodily harm.

“I see. Well there are much better ways to get your views across than beginning a food fight. So I’m going to ask again. _Who did this?_ ” His voice was dangerously low, and Kirsch knew that whoever admitted to being involved would get the full force of his rage. And he couldn’t let that happen.

_Why the fuck do I keep doing this?_

Despite that thought, he shoved his hand up in the air. Everyone turned to look at him, and he noticed Lawrence giving him a weird look he couldn’t work out.

“It was my fault. I started the whole thing, and everyone else was just protecting themselves,” he said slowly.

“I think you’d better come with me, Kirsch,” he was turning purple and spit flew out of his mouth as he talked, which was super gross. Kirsch figured he’d get in more trouble if he tried to wipe it off his face.

“Wait!” Lawrence said and the officer’s head snapped to face her. “I started it.”

“No,” Kirsch protested. “ _I_ did.”

“ _No,_ I threw the first food.”

Kirsch sighed. Why did she have to turn everything into a competition? Couldn’t she see he was trying to get her out of a punishment?

“Well _I_ was the one who got you mad enough to do that. Because of the _thing_. _Remember_?” he didn’t want to mention the knife in front of a correctional officer, but he wanted to remind Danny that she was being stupid and it was totally his fault, so she would stop being all heroic and save herself time on her sentence.

“Be that as it may, I shouldn’t have retaliated with physical violence, considering the facility’s strict policies on such behaviour,” Danny wasn’t even looking at him now, she was speaking directly to the officer.

“It was me,” Kirsch butted in.

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Was no-”

“I don’t care! Both of you, to the warden’s office!”

***

“What the fuck was that about?” Kirsch mumbled to Lawrence as they sat in the foreboding office. The warden wasn’t there yet, and Kirsch figured it was probably some kind of psychological thing.

They’d be more likely to confess if they were left to stew for a while or some bullshit like that.

Which was hardly the problem here since they were _both_ confessing. Slightly too enthusiastically.

Still, the time alone gave him a chance to talk to Lawrence, since he was kind of majorly confused.

“I think you fucking know.”

“Well obviously I don’t, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you.”

Lawrence seemed to considering this for a moment, tucking a strand of flame-red hair behind her ear. Kirsch thought it looked better falling on her face, but whatever.

“I found Mel in a fight with one of your bros, and he had a knife.”

“What?” Kirsch laughed slightly and shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. No honourable Zeta would do that.”

“Well I guess it wasn’t a very honourable one then.”

“Is Mel okay?”

Lawrence looked surprised by the question. “Uh, yeah. She just got a cut on her arm. But thanks.”

“Do you know who it was. Because we’re like, honour bound to pound that guy.”

Lawrence snorted. “ _Pound_ that guy? Really?”

Kirsch fixed her with a stare. He was trying to be serious, he’d just discovered that one of his bros had a _knife_ on him.

“Who was it?”

“Theo.”

“What the fuck? Are you sure?”

“Pretty damn sure.”

“Theo? Like posh voice, probably never been in a physical fight in his life?”

“I know what Theo looks like, thanks,” Lawrence’s tone cuts. “If you don’t believe me you can go ask Mel. Or better yet, fucking ask _him_ what the hell he thought he was doing.”

“Hey, hey, I believe you!” Kirsch threw his hands up in surrender. “I’m just surprised is all. He didn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d do that. But I’ll talk to him.”

“Will you, uh,” Lawrence gave him a cheeky smile, “ _pound_ him?”

“Fuck off,” Kirsch said, but it wasn’t entirely mean. He didn’t say it as harshly as he may have. Lawrence just laughed.

“I really hope you don’t find your situation funny,” the voice of the warden silenced them as he strolled into the office.

_Crap. Here we go._

***

Danny didn’t find any part of this situation funny. Really, cross her heart, she didn’t. But she could not stop laughing. It was uncontrollable, it was loud, it was really uncomfortable, but she physically couldn’t stop her sides from splitting.

Because here’s the thing. If she went back, a week or month or year whatever, and told herself that one day she would save the head zetas ass from being chewed out by the warden she would have slapped herself in the face. And then would proceed to laugh uncontrollably because there was no way in hell that was possible. Since she couldn’t really slap herself in the face, not without looking even weirder anyway, she resigned to the uncontrollable laughter.

Or her mind did. Subconsciously. Because Danny had literally no way of stopping it.

“ENOUGH!” The laughter stopped. That word had been used too much today, but it still had the same effect. Fear.

Danny was supposed to be released in a couple months, she had been _trying_ to toe the line but when it came to her girls? And the zetas provoking her? Ugh, how could she have been so stupid. Not that she’d let this douche-bro take the credit for something he didn’t do, that just wasn’t cool, but to let it start in the first place?

She was mentally kicking herself in the shins.

“Wilson Kirsch.” The warden turned to the head zeta, who stiffened at the use of his first name. “You have been here for less than a year and you go and start a food fight in my prison?”

Kirsch stayed silent. Hey, at least he had some brain cells.

“You should know better, especially when time is on the line.” The poor guy was shifting uncomfortably in his uncomfortable seat, looks like he couldn’t handle the pressure of the warden’s office. “And Danielle Lawrence.” There was a visible shudder at the extended version of her name, and the warden’s eyes focused on Danny.

“Yes sir?”

“So should you. I thought you’d be out of here by the time you were eighteen.”

“Yes sir.”

“We’re going to have to extend your sentence, Lawrence. Looks like you’re going to be leaving on your birthday after all.” He was doing that disappointed voice, the one that made Danny want to apologise for every little thing she’d ever done wrong. Except, there was only one that mattered.

She didn’t even respond, just fidgeted until his gaze moved away from her.

He moved to behind his desk and started pulling out paperwork. Those goddamn papers, Danny hated them so fucking much. With a swipe of his pen the warden was casually adding a few more weeks to the time Danny had left in this hellhole. Hadn’t she spent enough? It was getting hard to remember what it was like outside of Silas.

“Now, added time isn’t enough here.” He put the papers aside, like they were just paper. Fucking warden didn’t even treat them like they were as heavy as lead. “You instigated a prison riot.”

“It was a food fight.” Kirsch pointed out, and Danny inwardly groaned.

“It was rebellious activity and should not be treated lightly.” The warden put on his thinking face. The silence was pressing down on everyone in the room. “Now, has been brought to my attention that the toilets have recently been blocked by excessive usage.”

Kirsch was fidgeting again, so he should be.

“Someone has to clean them.” No. Oh no. Danny had witnessed the filth, hell she’d even caused some of it, and she wouldn’t wish that upon her worst enemy. “And, as Miss Karnstein pointed out, the showers are in need of some maintenance.”

“But aren’t you going to redo them anyway?” Kirsch asked again. Seriously dude, stop talking back. Danny wished she could yell at him, but she was already on thin ice.

“We’re going to pay for plumbing, not cleaning.” The warden pulled out another fucking piece of paper, and picked up his pen to write something else down. Something Danny wished he wouldn’t. “That will be your job.” The warden gestured them out of the room, and as they were leaving he signed off with,

“You start tomorrow. Have fun.”

 


	5. Happy Little Work Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's recommended listening is 'go home' by lily allen and 'happy little working song' from enchanted

Kirsch was in shit.

Literally.

He began to _really_ regret giving the summer soc girls those laxatives. In his defence, he hadn’t known that he would be the one having to clean it all up.

He had to breathe through his mouth because the smell was nauseating and he wasn’t wanting to mix vomit in with the already unsavoury contents of the toilet in front of him.

“Plunger?” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Dude, come out here and get it yourself. I’m mopping,” Danny called back. Her voice was kind of muffled from the homemade gas mask she’d made to combat the stench. Kirsch point blank refused to use one. The smell was gross, but there was no way in hell he’d put one of… _those_ on his face.

“Hey, say what you want about U by Kotex but their pads are sure good for when you’re in a pinch,” she tried to justify it to him. But he still wouldn’t do it.

“Come on, it’s not like they’re _used.”_

“Bro you better shut up before I vomit,” he grunted as he took the plunger from the cart and reluctantly returned to the stall.

“You guys are so scared of that kind of stuff it’s hilarious.”

He didn’t respond, focusing on the task in front of him. After a few seconds, he decided that he _didn’t_ want to focus on that task because it was disgusting, so he tried to strike up conversation again.

“So… this is fun, isn’t it?” he joked.

“Yeah, thanks a lot, asswipe.”

Kirsch looked up in confusion. He stood and turned to face Danny, who ignored him and kept mopping.

“How the hell is this my fault? You’re the one who threw the food first, you said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” Danny said with somewhat worrying ferocity. “But _you_ r Zeta brought a fucking knife and tried to stick my summer soc, and you were the one who made us block the toilets by fucking giving us laxatives. So when you look at it, this entire situation is your fault.”

Damn, she was right. Not that that made Kirsch feel any better, though.

“Wait, if you think it’s all my fault why did you say it was you?”

She stopped mopping and sighed, still avoiding eye contact. “I wasn’t about to let you take the fall for something I technically did. But that doesn’t mean I won’t totally get my own revenge after this.”

Kirsch laughed slightly. “I wouldn’t accept anything less.”

She turned now, her forehead furrowed. “So why did _you_ put your hand up? It wasn’t actually you.”

He sighed, feeling the familiar sense of shame weigh down his chest. “Yeah well… I didn’t wanna see my bros get in trouble. The officer was well pissed and whoever said it was them would’ve been torn apart. So I guess,” he took a deep breath, “I guess I’m too fucking heroic for my own good, I never know when to save my own skin.” He threw the plunger to the floor in frustration.

Danny was obviously confused about his outburst, but she didn’t push, which he appreciated. He hadn’t meant to come out with that, but the situation with the Zetas had reminded him of a lot of feelings he’d been working to bury.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, looking out for your friends is pretty cool of you,” Danny said, and Kirsch knew it was the closest to a compliment he’d get from her. So he let himself smile.

“Thanks. Not that any of this matters anyway, since Carmilla managed to get all the money spent on bathroom renovations.”

“Yeah, what was up with that?” Danny said, looking at him. “I mean, I _would_ be mad but to be honest this place really needs it. I’m surprised we never thought of that.”

“Yeah, she must have been thinking about it for a while. Maybe that’s why she didn’t join you girls.”

Danny laughed now, loudly. “No, she wouldn’t join even if we were an angry existentialist punk-rock fight club or whatever weird shit she’s into. She hates me, has done ever since we first met. Old rivalry about a teddy bear.”

“What’s her problem, though?”

“Who the hell knows? She doesn’t talk about what she did to get here or her life on the outside or… _anything_ really. Complete mystery.”

“Would you say she was a nightmare dressed like a… nightmare…” Kirsch trailed off as he realised his joke sucked.

“Was that a Taylor Swift reference?”

“You can’t judge me because you _also_ knew it was a Taylor Swift reference.”

“True,” she shrugged and went back to mopping. Kirsch really didn’t want to work again, so leaned against the sink.

“So, what plans have you got for when you’re out of here?” he asked. It seemed like something no one dared talk about in this place, almost as if speaking your hopes would jinx it.

Kirsch couldn’t really judge them, though, since he didn’t tell anyone his wishes, ever, in case they didn’t come true.

“Uh, not sure. Why?”

“Just wondering. I guess I’ll have to get a job. Prison’s kind of dashed all college hopes I had. I didn’t even manage to graduate high school, since I failed English Lit and I was gonna resit it in summer school but… you know. I’m spending my summer here.”

“Hey, I was _awesome_ at English Lit!” Danny said, and Kirsch just felt worse. Of course she was going to boast about being better than him. Once a summer soc, always a summer soc.

“No need to be an asshole about it,” he grumbled, picking up the plunger again.

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant!” she said, grabbing him by the shoulder. “I meant I could tutor you. You know, if you wanted. I’m sure the prison would let you retake the final or get a GED or something, they _do_ have an education program.”

Kirsch stared at her for a minute. Was this a trap? He wouldn’t put it past her. Sure, the turf war was over but she _had_ mentioned revenge. And he didn’t want the wool pulled over his eyes. He’d learnt his lesson.

“Dude, it’s not a trick, I’m genuinely offering. Think on it?”

“Sure,” he said, smiling slightly. Then he jokily mimed vomiting and returned to unblock the toilet in front of him.

* * *

This was unbelievable. Unbe-fucking-lievable. Yesterday, Danny had thought that Wilson Kirsch was the worst piece of scum ever to slouch around on this godforsaken planet, and today? Today she thought he was mildly...okay...ish...kinda...maybe…

The two had fallen into a silence as they tossed various cleaning utensils across the room to each other. It got to the point where Danny was throwing the mop to Kirsch practically 0.2 seconds after he gestured for it, she was pretty impressed with their teamwork.

He also wasn’t that difficult to work with either, much less than she’d anticipated. Then again, he had to deal with every single boy in this place so his tolerance level for bullshit, whether metaphorical or not, must have been pretty high.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Some of the fish the Summer Socs had put in the showers a few weeks ago were shook loose by the rigorous cleaning and Kirsch was very quickly surrounded by slimy, rotting fish.

“Uhhh, Summer Psycho, I need some help.” He sounded so panicked, bless him, but he knew the rules. Danny waited. He’d fix his mistake eventually. Kirsch’s foot almost went out from under him and he screamed. “Dannnyyyyyyyy!”

Woah. Woah woah woah. She wanted him to change what he called her but…

“Wait, no. Lawrence. Lawrence, I need your help. Lawrence, get over here!” Danny finally looked up and met his eyes. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Danny winked at him. “Wilson.”

“Don’t.”

“You started it.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Yeah huh, sure.”

“Totally.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

“Splendid.”

“Will you please just clean up these fucking fish! I’m about to slip and land in a pile of shit!”

“And whose fault is that?” Danny raised an eyebrow, but started extracting the slimy fish from the scene anyway. “Because I sure as hell didn’t give laxatives to _myself.”_

“Uhhh...well...okay, yes it’s mine.” Once the majority of the fishy situation had been cleared away, Danny gave Kirsch another mop so he could help finish it off. “Sorry about the laxatives.”

“So it _was_ laxatives!”

“Huh?”

“I _knew_ it!”

“Wait…”

“How’d you get it? Huh? _Huh_?” She didn’t realise how intensely she was staring him down, but hey Danny needed answers. In fact, she was getting so invested in knowing the answer that she took a step forward, hoping to intimidate. Kirsch responded by taking a step backwards to maintain a friendly distance between the two.

Or at least he tried to. The floor was still wet, he still wasn’t very confident on his feet and Kirsch was slipping.

Time seemed to slow down. There was another yell from Kirsch, and his arms were flailing. His feet wouldn’t stay still, even though he’d already lost his balance they were just trying to make things worse. Danny reached out and grabbed his shirt, swinging him away from the many piles of poop in the bathroom. The momentum was too much, though, and Danny went tumbling with the head zeta into the clean corner of the bathroom.

It took Danny less time than it took Carmilla to threaten a guard to disentangle herself from Kirsch.

“Thanks Lawrence, you saved my bacon.”

“That was accidental.”


	6. Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's recommended listening is our song by taylor swift and step by vampire weekend  
> (also i wish we had some good excuse for this going up late, but we dont)

You would have thought that cleaning the bathrooms for the past three days would have lead to Kirsch losing his appetite, but surprisingly he found himself starving every lunchtime.

Heck, he was still growing, he needed his food.

When lunchtime rolled around on the third day, he tossed his mop to Danny, who caught it without looking and slung it into the bucket.

“Hey, don’t let any of the summer socs know you’re tutoring me, okay? I don’t want the rest of them to think I’m even more of a dumbass than they already do.”

“You’re not a dumbass, dude. An idiot, sure. But not a dumbass,” Danny shrugged, before walking out into the corridor. Kirsch followed close behind, and they strolled together. Until they passed a Zeta, and Kirsch quickly detached himself from Danny’s side.

He gave the Zeta a nod and watched until he’d rounded the corner.

When they reached the cafeteria, they didn’t even acknowledge each other as they went their separate ways. Kirsch sauntered over to the Zeta table, but stopped in his tracks when he reached there.

“Dude, you’re in my seat.”

“Actually, this is _my_ seat now,” Theo said, shooing Kirsch away.

“Uh, no way, I’ve always sat here.” Kirsch suddenly remembered the conversation he’d had with Danny a couple days ago. “Also, bro, we need to have a serious talk. I heard you brought a _you-know-what_ in here and that’s totally not the Zeta way.”

“I was just giving that summer psycho what she deserved,” he said, his voice remaining calm and factual as if he was simply recounting going grocery shopping.

“Okay, that’s it, you’re out of the Zetas!”

“No, _you’re_ out of the Zetas!”

“No, you!”

‘No, you!”

“You can’t kick me out, bruh, I’m in charge!”

“Maybe I can’t,” Theo smirked slightly, “but everyone else can.”

Kirsch looked up and down the table, and everyone averted their gaze guiltily.

“Uh, sorry bro,” Price stood up and gave Kirsch a comforting pat on the shoulder. “We took a vote.”

“What the dick? Why?”  
“Well, you’ve been hanging out with that Lawrence girl…”

“Uh, yeah cos that’s our _punishment_. Because I took the fall for _you_ after starting the food fight!” he clenched his fists.

“Still, it’s Zeta rule number one,” Price sounded genuinely sorry, “no friendships with summer socs.”

“We’re not _friends_ ,” Kirsch protested, but he felt guilty even as he said it. Okay, he could admit it, Danny was cooler than he’d have thought. Even if she did poke fun at him sometimes.

“You can’t sit with us anymore.”

If this had been any other situation, Kirsch might have cracked a Mean Girls joke. But, no, they didn’t _deserve_ his comic genius. He felt empty. The Zetas had been the one good thing about being sent to Silas, and now they were going to _kick him out?_

Because he _made a fucking friend?_

That was just bullshit.

“You know what, guys, have fun trying to keep this damn place in shape without me,” he said, before storming off to the middle table.

He sat down, before realising there were more people than usual sitting there. Carmilla and LaF were still there, but there was also…

“Sanchez? What the hell are you doing here?”  
“Theo kicked me out,” he prodded his food gloomily. Kirsch was about to ask why, until he saw the other new person sitting at the table. A summer soc girl. She was sitting next to Sanchez, slightly too close to him to just be friendly.

“Wow, they really take this feud seriously, huh?”

“They walked in on me and SJ…and they found out that I warned her not to eat the lasagna.”

“Dude!” Kirsch was about to berate him, until he realised that Sanchez had been chewed out enough, and they were all in the same boat now.

“That prank was totally juvenile, by the way,” Carmilla said, without looking up from her book. It took Kirsch a moment to confirm that she was indeed talking to them.

“Oh, yeah?” Sanchez goaded. “What would you have done?”

“You _really_ don’t want to know what I would do to someone who pissed me off,” she growled, still refusing to make eye contact.

There was a silence that lasted just enough time to become uncomfortable, which was brought to an end by Danny swearing and dumping her food on the table next to Kirsch.

“Can you believe I just got kicked out of the summer society? I’m their _leader!_ And all because they found out I’m tutoring you.”

“Wait, you’re getting tutored?” Sanchez looked like he was about to mock Kirsch, until both Kirsch and Danny shot him a look that basically said _‘say nothing or you’ll not live to see another day.’_

“It’s ridiculous that we’re being ostracised because of this!” Danny continued protesting.

“I know, right? Plus Theo’s become all rude and stuff, it sucks.”

“Can you lackwits do everyone here a favour and _shut the fuck up?”_ Carmilla said.

“Hey, we have just as much a right to this table as you do!” Kirsch retorted. Carmilla’s eyes flicked to him and darkened dangerously, before her face twisted into a smile that was almost as unnerving as her death glare.

“Oh my poor, poor boy,” she placed her hand on Kirsch’s shoulder and he swallowed loudly. “I’m sorry I have such a terrible temper… could you possibly forgive me?”

“Y-yeah it ain’t no thing,” he stammered out. “T-that tickles.”

“Oh, look at these,” Carmilla’s arm moved from his shoulder to his bicep and he took a deep breath. “Such arms, such shoulders. The primitive by way of the neoclassical.”

“Yeah, well I work out,” he could hear Danny snort loudly, but he paid her no heed. Crazy or not, Carmilla was hot and he was _totally_ allowed to enjoy whatever the heck was happening.

“I could just eat you alive,” she began kissing his neck and he giggled. He was having a really fun time… until he felt teeth sink into his neck.

“Ow ow biting biting biting!”

“Karnstein!” came the familiar bark from the correctional officer. She grinned wickedly, swinging her legs around and sauntering up to get her punishment.

Kirsch put his hand on his neck to check for blood, but luckily she hadn’t pierced the skin. He looked over to Danny, hoping to see her outraged and disgusted. To his horror, though, she seemed to be barely holding in laughter.

“Sorry dude, but you really should have seen that coming.”

“She fucking bit me! That’s not normal!”

“I gotta agree with Kirsch here,” Sanchez said. “She’s a fucking psycho.”

Kirsch heard a laugh, and turned to see LaFontaine hunched over their calculations.

“What’s so funny?” Sanchez demanded.

“Nothing, it’s just.. you guys really don’t understand anything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you see, Carmilla was basically in the mafia-” LaF was cut off as a book was launched at their head.

“KARNSTEIN!” bellowed the officer. “Three more weeks!”

“Oh noooooo,” Carmilla said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How ever will I cope?”

LaF was holding their hand to their forehead and pouting. SJ took their hand away and looked closely.

“You’re not bleeding, you’ll live,” she said kindly.

“Uh, sure, but have we all forgotten the part where she _bit my neck?!”_

Danny began shovelling food into her mouth. “Carmilla really needs to stop acting up, or else she’ll never get out of here.”

LaFontaine snorted loudly, but tried to pass it off as a cough. Kirsch simply shrugged and dug into his lunch. He needed to eat well, he had a big afternoon ahead of him.

* * *

“My brain is going to leak out of my ears.” Kirsch, for the third time in ten minutes, facedesked.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just english.” Kirsch groaned. “Use your words, child.”

“‘m not child.” He still hadn’t lifted his face up from it’s place on the wooden surface, the words were hard to make out.

“Use your grammar, dimwit.”

“‘m not a…”

“I swear to God, Kirsch, pay _attention!”_ Danny slammed the desk, causing him to jump back up into an upright sitting position. “Look, if you’re going to get this, you’re going to need to understand what some of these words mean.”

“I can piece it together, I’m not an idiot.”

“Shut up, this’ll help with analysis. I know what I’m talking about.”

Or at least she pretended to. It helped that one person in this arrangement was confident in their abilities, and hell if they had to get through three separate texts for one exam? It was going to take time. And patience. The confidence was really going to help.

“So, let’s start here…” Danny picked a word from the selection that she was sure the zeta brute wouldn’t understand. “What does antithesis mean?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…” He was obviously stalling for time, pleading for the proverbial lifeboat. Danny was taking great satisfaction in ignoring that plea. “Anti means against, right? Right?” Okay, so she nodded a little. “And thesis...thesis...like an essay or something…is it anti-essays? Cause I relate.”

“Sound logic, young pupil, but alas, it is not.” Danny grinned, she was actually pretty proud of that analysis, he was smarter than he gave himself credit for. But then he groaned again, and she had to come to the rescue.

“It means something that is the direct opposite of something else.”

There was a pause as he let that information sink in.

“Like...the zetas are the antithesis of the Summer Socs?” Kirsch beamed up at his tutor, who returned it wholeheartedly.

“You got it!”

“Yeah I did.” Kirsch did an adorable, no it was silly and ridiculous Danny gosh, little dance in his chair. “Don’t doubt my genius, Lawrence.”

“Not there yet, Kirsch.” Danny turned back to the text. “What about...erroneous?”

“Uhhhhhhhh…” Another pause, but this time Kirsch was more sure of himself. He was taking the time to think about it. It was rather impressive. “I have no clue about the ‘neous’ thing, but ‘erro’ sounds like error…”

“Yeah huh.”

“Does it mean wrong?”

She had to stop herself from hugging him. She was meant to be professional.

“It does indeed, for example, the zetas made an erroneous decision in giving all of the Summer Socs fucking _laxatives.”_

“Hey, as someone who helped clean that up, I _know_.” And the two were laughing over all of the poop produced over the course of a few days once again. Why did their conversations always feature the shit?

Their tutoring session continued as it always did, featuring copious amounts of banter and teasing that made for some hilarious times. Kirsch was progressing at his own pace and Danny was more than happy to help him in any way she could. Besides, it served as a nice distraction from…

“NATALIE! I LOST MY...oh, you’re not Natalie…” Oh, great.

“Jensen, hey. We’re just…”

“I’m not allowed to talk to you.” She looked down at her feet sheepishly, like she had just gotten in trouble. Then again, from what Danny had heard about what the Summer Socs now thought about her, Jensen probably had.

“You don’t have to…”  
“Why did you do it, Danny?” She looked up, and up and up, to meet Danny’s eyes, and it broke the taller girl’s heart to see how much hurt was in those eyes. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Jensen seemed to consider an idea, but then she shook her head. Danny would have given anything to get a glimpse into that little girl’s mind.

“Don’t tell anyone I spoke to you.” And Jensen ran off. It hit Lawrence like a fucking truck. She was out of the summer socs. She wasn’t a member anymore. It was official. There was no going back. They had been her family for a good two and a half years at this point and it only took two and a half days for her to fuck it up and lose them.

She collapsed onto the floor, her head in her knees and she leant against the table leg. Oh shit, was she actually crying? Fuck…

It was a testament to how shaken she was that she hadn’t heard the shift of the chair, or the steps towards her, but suddenly Wilson Kirsch was sitting next to her. The atmosphere had shifted from banterous to tense as fuck. No words were exchanged, they didn’t need to be. The fact that Kirsch’s posture mirrored Danny’s spoke volumes for what this gesture meant.

‘I’m sorry that you were kicked out of the summer socs.’ Kirsch rested the side of his head against the side of Danny’s. ‘I understand what you’re going through.’ Danny linked her arm with his. ‘More than you know.’

They sat there, together in silence, until their stomachs ruined it when they growled for lunch.

 


	7. how do i tell a girl?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHAT THE HECK IS THIS????? yes okay this fic has finally updated after months and months what can we say we're terrible people
> 
> the recommended listening is 'how do i tell a girl i want to kiss her?' by modern baseball (although tbh this can definitely be interpreted as platonic so just ignore the song title)

“Look, dude, I just don’t get it. There’s no point,” Kirsch groaned, laying his head down on the open book in front of him. 

“Not if you keep thinking like that, come on!” Danny slapped the back of his head and he shot up in his seat. 

“Jeez, okay!”

“So what did we read last chapter?” 

Kirsch thought back to the hours spent in his cell, trying to wrap his head around the dense and confusing sentences. They’d finished Beowulf and had moved on to Dickens, but that was just as hard to understand (if not worse.) 

“Uuuh… Pip met a lawyer. J-something.” 

“Jaggers?” 

“Yeah! And he got these “great expectations” which I’m pretty sure is just money.” 

Danny nodded, gesturing for him to go on. 

“Aaaand something happened with his sister. I dunno.” 

Her face fell.    
“Kirsch. You gotta focus on this! You need to write an essay, and you can hardly do that if you don’t even understand the book!” 

“It’s not my fault, this is impossible!” 

Danny sighed in exasperation and Kirsch slumped in his seat. He looked around. The library was practically empty, save for Carmilla. She was sprawled out on one of the few sofas, deep in some philosophy book or another. At least it solved the mystery of where she went all day. 

Most of the kids in Silas stayed as far away from the library as possible, which meant Kirsch didn’t have to worry about any embarrassment as he loudly complained that he knew nothing. 

“Not  _ nothing,”  _ Danny protested. “You know about Jagger, and do you remember Joe Gargery?” 

“Well  _ yeah.  _ But I can’t write about this shit.” 

“Okay,” Danny began, leaning on the table. “So tell me about the differences between them.” 

Kirsch screwed his face up, thinking. “Well, they’re, like, totally different things. Joe is Pip’s home, which he’s totally bored of by now, but it’s familiar. And Jaggers comes from London which is new and exciting but scary.” 

“So?” 

“So they’re both different parts of Pip’s life which are against one another.” 

Kirsch glanced over to Danny, who had a triumphant smile on her face. Usually, Kirsch would hate her looking so smug. But, considering that Danny was trying to help him this time, he figured it was probably a good sign that she seemed happy. Still, he didn’t know  _ why. _

“What?”

“Dude, you basically just created a line of argument. Add some quotes, spout some bullshit about the duality of Pip’s desires, and you’ve got yourself an essay.” 

“Seriously?”

She nodded. 

_ Well that was easy.  _

“Huh.”

“So now, quotes!”

“Fuck.”

* * *

After dinner, they had a couple of hours for rec time, and Kirsch almost headed to the social area before he remembered that he was kicked out of the Zetas and, unless he wanted to listen to LaF ranting about the possibility of human cloning, he had nowhere to go.

Feeling completely and utterly sorry for himself, he headed over to the library. Carmilla was there, as always. She didn’t acknowledge Kirsch, which was more of an approval than he’d been expecting. At least he hadn’t been punched. 

Or bitten.

The library was depressing, stained cinderblock with one window on the far side. Through it, Kirsch would see Sanchez dribbling a ball dejectedly.

He headed over to the bookshelf. His head was hurting enough from all the classics Danny had him reading, so he made a beeline for the easier-looking stuff. 

There was way too much vampire crap for him, but he found one about superheros that looked pretty cool.

He plopped himself down on one of the beanbags in the corner, cracking the book open and beginning to read. Thankfully, this one seemed to be in  _ English. _

He was a few pages in when somebody he hadn’t heard sneak up to him snatched the book out of his hands.    
“What the hell, Danny?! I was reading that!”

She raised her eyebrows, then held the book up as high as possible.

Taking it as a challenge, Kirsch got to his feet and tried to get the book back from her. Eventually he wrestled it out of her grip and stood in front of her, fuming. 

“Seriously?” 

“What? It was funny.” 

“I was reading,” he protested, returning to his beanbag. Danny stood for a moment, before sitting down next to him.

“Sorry, geez.”

Kirsch didn’t say anything. He didn’t like people teasing him or making him feel like an idiot. He crossed his arms and huffed out a breath. 

“This place sucks.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you decided to become a hardened criminal,” Danny laughed. 

“Shut up.”

“Come on, I know the whole drug lord thing is bullshit, or at least totally exaggerated. So spill.” 

Kirsch deliberated for a moment. He usually lied, but any cred his previous story had gotten him was officially lost anyway. 

“Actually, no. I actually was done for thousands of dollars of cocaine possession.”

“Holy shit,” Danny looked impressed, and Kirsch wished she didn’t. 

“No, but dude,  _ I didn’t do anything _ .” 

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “And I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”    
“No, bro, I’m being serious,” he insisted. 

“Seriously?” Danny sounded doubtful. “So what happened?” 

* * *

_ “You gotta help me, man, they’re after me!” _

_ “What the hell?” Kirsch demanded. It was two am, and he hadn’t seen Will in months. “Did you climb in my window?” _ _   
_ _ “Dude, I did something really stupid,” Will pleaded, standing in the middle of Kirsch’s bedroom looking completely panicked. Kirsch’s brain was sleepy, but even he knew this was serious. Something had happened.  _

_ “Police! Open up!”  _

_ “What the fuck did you do?!”  _

_ “I messed up but you gotta believe me, I didn’t mean it!” _

_ Kirsch stood up, and noticed that Will was holding a big black bag. He didn’t want to know what was in there.  _

_ “You have to help me, please!”  _

_ “Uh, okay,” Kirsch said.  _

_ “My mom will kill me if I go to jail!” _

_ Then, Kirsch made a snap decision. Possibly the worst decision of his life.  _

_ “I’ll take the fall for you.”  _

_ Will smiled in relief, before handing the bag over to Kirsch. “Awesome! You’re a true bro!” He then headed back across the room, and climbed back out the window.  _

_ Kirsch stood there, dumbfounded, clutching the bag in his fist. That was about to get him in a whole lot of trouble. _

_ Sirens were wailing. The banging was getting louder. He couldn’t move. His legs wouldn’t work.  _

_ The door burst open. He was wrestled to the ground.  _ _ He had nowhere to run, he couldn’t do anything but let himself be taken. The handcuffs dug into his wrists as he was dragged away, his mother crying and asking what he had done. The police car was too small, and he felt panic fogging up his brain.  _

_ Why had he done that? _

* * *

Danny didn’t know what to say.

If she had heard the story a few days ago then she would have laughed it off and declared that she was just as, if not more, innocent, exactly like everyone else in this place. But it wasn’t a few days ago, and now Danny knew Kirsch. She knew that he wouldn’t make up something this big. He was telling the truth, she knew it in her gut. But she didn’t know how to verbally articulate that.

“Lawrence?” He looked scared. Hell, she didn’t blame him. He’d just spilled a big secret, and was waiting for a response from Danny. A response that was still taking some time to form.

Finally, she met his eyes and said, “I believe you.”

“Cool, wanna tell the court that?”

“Shut up.” She hit him playfully on the arm, and he responded quite dramatically. Jesus, it couldn’t have hurt that bad. “Seriously though, you should tell the court.”

“No way, I’m not doing that.”

“Uh yeah, it’s bad enough being in here if you deserve it, but if you don’t? That’s pure torture.”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not!” Kirsch awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. “So what about you?”

“Huh?” The speed at which he changed the topic left Danny reeling for a moment.

“Why are you in here? Come on, I told you mine.”

Danny paused. She didn’t tell this story very often. Not at all actually, and she wasn’t about to break that streak for a freaking zeta. Except that Kirsch was more than that, whether Danny could admit it or not, and he was right. She did owe it to him.

“Okay, so you know Daisybank Park?”

“Aw yeah, I used to go there all the time with my sister.”

“Sister?”

“Tell the story.” God, he sounded like a kid demanding sweets from his mom.

“Fine. So anyway, there were plans to turn it into a parking lot which is outrageous, like that park is a staple of this city and so me and a few...well let’s call them comrades...decided to start a protest. It got some support, we were being pretty vocal, but when the police started getting uncomfortably close, they scattered. Even the people who started it. 

“It ended with me handcuffing myself to the gate and the police dragging me away. Just me. No one else.”

“Jeez, that’s pretty shitty.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The pause that followed was rather awkward.

“Hey, haven’t you been in here for like...two years?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“That’s not worth…”

“Let’s just say I haven’t exactly been the best inmate in the world. I mean, I’m no Carmilla but…”

“Ah, right.” There was another pause, just as awkward as the first. That was when Danny remembered her train of thought before Kirsch distracted her.

“ _ Anyway _ , dude you should totally appeal to the court. Get your case reviewed. Get the hell out of this place!” Danny didn’t know why she was so enthusiastic about this idea, but Kirsch looked anything but.

“There’s no way it’d work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah I do.”

“No. You don’t.” Kirsch opened his mouth to retaliate, but Danny didn’t let him. “What if it worked? How great would that be? You have to at least give it a shot.”

“Danny, there’s no evidence. Zilch, nada, nothing, and that’s what they’re going to need if they even  _ consider _ letting me out of this place. Plus is means betraying my bro Will, and I’m not about that life.”

At that point, Carmilla appeared at the end of the shelves with a murderous look on her face.

“You’re not talking about Will Karnstein, are you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written by ravenpuffslytherdor and carmilluminati on tumblr. Track #zspau for updates. (Also, this fic was written before we properly met Mel and Theo, so apologies if they end up being OOC.)


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